Ashes
by Luisant
Summary: AU. You can't catch fire without getting burned... Katniss reflects on Peeta's death, and how she really felt about the boy with the bread.


I try to stay calm, clutching the edge of the table until my knuckles turn white and the metal edging digs into my palms. Staring at Haymitch evenly, I grit my teeth.

"Where is Peeta?" I say. My voice shakes, threatening to reveal the anger underneath. Haymitch avoids my gaze, his eyes boring into the wall next to my head. Finnick looks absently at the table, frowning.

"Where is he?" I repeat loudly, the anger spilling out. I glare at Haymitch as he lifts his head slightly.

"He's dead." Haymitch answers bluntly, narrowing his eyes. I freeze, feeling the color drain from my face. My hands slowly slip, dropping into my lap. I blink, feeling numb for a moment before feeling crashes down on me like violent, churning waves.

"…Dead." I mean it to be a question, but my voice flattens. "How?" Haymitch's eyes harden.

"Snow." He says, voice dripping with hate. A thousand terrible images flash inside my head. Peeta decapitated. Shot in the back. Perhaps something more terrible, whipped or beaten until death came. The numbness dims, and something stronger tangles itself inside my brain. I recognize it, although only faintly. I haven't felt it so fresh, so strong, in six long years. Pain. Guilt.

I close my eyes, willing for reality to disappear magically. Of course, though, it doesn't. One can't escape from the world. My hands brush against my face in a half-hearted effort to staunch the tears rolling down my cheeks. It's a strange and foreign feeling, to cry.

I realize quickly that I hate it, feeling small and vulnerable. Katniss Everdeen does not cry for anyone… except Peeta. I bury my face in my hands, the raging fit equaled by my mortification. The door creaks open, and I recognize Gale's voice.

"So you told her." He says huskily. "Great." I feel a warm hand grab my arm, and Gale's breath near my face. "Come on, Katniss."

I shake my head, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum. I raise my head, wiping away the tears from my puffy eyes. Gale's face is set in stone, grave yet sympathetic.

_He loves me_. I think to myself bitterly. It's clear on his face, in his eyes. _But do I? Do I even want to love anyone?_

The realization overlaps the pain of Peeta's death, and I stand up on shaky legs, grabbing Gale's arm for support.

He stares at me. "Come on," He repeats, patting the hand that clenched his forearm. I only look back at him, not quite processing words. He starts to walk out of the room and I follow, stepping slowly. We wind down hallways for a silent while, my vision still bleary with depression.

Gale stops at a plain room with a few red couches and leads me inside. Together, we sit down. Without a word, I bury my face in his chest and wrap my arms around him, sobbing again.

Though I bitterly rejected the tears, they came thickly, accompanied by blubbering and sniffles. It was so odd that I should react so strongly to his death.

In the Games, I always though in the back of my mind that Peeta would be dead. By whose hands I did not know, and had no desire to find out. From the moment we were chosen that first time, I knew that he would die.

Only he didn't. Perhaps I should have let him die from that infected wound, lessen the competition. I should have known it was all a trick, saying two of us could live. But I never suspected a thing. And… something inside me grew to like Peeta. Even so, all of those emotions were bashed down on the train ride home, never to be felt again.

And then, when our names were drawn again, and all those nightmares haunted my mind. Peeta was there; he knew what it felt like. Still, there was nothing beyond comfort. No love.

Unless…

My grip around Gale tightens. Unless I was lying to myself all along. Unless, even though I shouldn't have, I loved him. Unless, even after all the lies I put him through, I felt that he loved me, too.

Oh no.

The fresh wave of thoughts silenced my tears, and Gale took notice. I glanced up at him, lip quivering.

"I loved him." I say quietly, detaching myself from Gale. His dark eyes harden with hurt.

"I know." He responds hollowly. I rest my head on his chest, expecting to feel comfort there, but there's nothing. Only guilt is present, churning inside me like a hurricane. Guilt at how I can't love him, even though I want to. My heart belonged to another.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry."

I would always love Peeta. Always.


End file.
